


Crossing Paths

by seekeronthepath



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (feel free to adopt it if you want), Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Adult Stiles Stilinski, Depressed Steve Rogers, Fic amnesty, Gen, Spark Stiles Stilinski, exists in a wibbly wobbly post-Avengers timeline, ignores most of the MCU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 16:22:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18264992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekeronthepath/pseuds/seekeronthepath
Summary: After college, Stiles ends up working as a bartender in New York. One day, Steve Rogers walks into the bar, and Stiles offers him a friendly listening ear.(This work is unfinished and abandoned. Please feel free to adopt the concept if you want!)





	Crossing Paths

Stiles glanced at the blond guy sitting at one end of the bar and did a double take. Holy shit. He’d known that, coming to New York, running into the Avengers was a possibility, but _Captain America_? In his bar? Or the bar where he worked, anyway. He glanced at Meg, but she was busy with someone else. Looked like the burden (aka awesomeness) of getting Captain America a drink fell on him then. Stiles leaned over. “Can I get you anything?” he asked.

 _Captain America_ glanced up and gave him a wry smile. “I guess I should order something, huh? Not that it’ll do anything for me.”

Oh. _Ohhhh_. Man, that must suck. “Nah, you wanna nurse a glass of water all night, you go right ahead,” Stiles promised. “Least I can do.” It wasn’t until he’d seen the (far too familiar) look in Steve’s eyes that he’d remembered that ‘Captain America’ was also a guy who’d lost too much.

“Least you can do?” Steve asked.

This time, Stiles was the one to wear a wry smile. “I’ve never been in the immediate vicinity of one of New York’s ‘disasters’, but I know how much they’d be fucking up my life if you weren’t there. Giving you somewhere to sit and think? Least I can do.”

Steve grimaced. “Recognised me, then?” he asked grimly, clearly trying to put a smile on his face.

“Hey,” Stiles said quietly. “It’s your day off. You don’t want to introduce yourself, no big deal.” After a moment’s thought he drew a line on the bar with his finger, murmuring an activation for the ‘don’t-see-me’ ward he’d set on that corner. Steve wasn’t the only one who’d ever come in looking for privacy.

“Why did you do that?” Steve asked, frowning. “Draw that line and whisper?”

“You sure you want to know?” Stiles replied, raising an eyebrow. “I promise I meant no harm and I’ll cause none, but it’s a bit of a can of worms.”

Steve sat up straighter. “Son, you know anything about me, you know I deal with worm cans for a living. Why did you do that?”

Stiles sighed, glancing at Meg. He was lucky it was slow today. “It was a spell. For…inconspicuousness, I guess. Hiding in plain sight.” Seeing the frown on Steve’s face, Stiles held his hands up, trying to reassure him. “Your friends can still find you! If anyone actually looks for you, they’d see you. Like I can. I just wanted to give you some privacy, that’s all, I promise.”

Steve frowned heavily. “You a magician, son?”

Stiles made a face. “That makes it sound like I pull rabbits out of hats. No offence.” He shrugged. “I don’t really call myself much of anything. I’ve got a bit of a spark, and I use it when I need to. Little things.”

“Like what?” Steve asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Well, I can make alcohol work on you, for a start,” Stiles said with a half-grin. “I’ve got friends with that problem, although I wouldn’t use on you what works for them – my guess is you’d reject it all the faster. But I’ve got other tricks up my sleeve, and enhancing potency’s one of the first things I learned.” Really, making herbs and things work better than they should was half of what he did anyway.

Steve sat back. “You know, I’d take you up on that, if I knew I could trust you.”

“Course you would.” Stiles shrugged. “Everyone wants to get drunk once in a while.” Damn, this would be easier if Steve was a werewolf. He’d be able to trust Stiles wasn’t lying from listening (not that Stiles hadn’t learnt how to control his heartbeat, but Steve wouldn’t know that). “Seriously, though. I swear on the air I breathe and the earth I walk on, I’ll do no harm to anyone that’s not harmed me and mine. You know magicians – ask ‘em if that’s an oath a magic-user’d break. Or not. Whatever suits you.” Words had power in the mouth of someone like him. He’d learnt it the hard way, and he wasn’t about to forget.

Steve gave Stiles a searching look. “I’ll do that,” he said, after a minute. “And I guess I’ll be back, with a friend, to try this alcohol that works on me.”

Stiles smiled at Steve’s caution. Of course he’d be bringing a friend. “The more the merrier. I’m here for the afternoon/evening shift Mondays, Tuesdays, and Fridays – I won’t be hard to find.” Or to find out about, although there were some things about him you wouldn’t find anywhere. He’d been careful about that.

Steve levered himself up, and Stiles, despite himself, swallowed at the sight of the rippling muscle under the too-small T-shirt. You’d think he’d be used to that sort of thing by now, but Steve really was in a class of his own. “I’ll be seeing you, then,” Steve said, smirking slightly. “And thanks – I don’t know if that’s why you talked to me, but you definitely distracted me from the memories.”

Stiles grinned, spreading his hands in a ‘who, me?’ gesture as Steve left. “Well,” he muttered to himself when the guy was gone, “this’ll be an interesting one to tell Derek.”

 

\-----

 

Steve called Dr Strange on his way home, leaving a message as usual – the guy was rarely paying enough attention to what he called ‘the mundane affairs of this plane’ to actually answer his phone. Surprisingly, Dr Strange showed up at the Tower the very next day.

“You caught me at a good time,” he explained when he saw Steve’s apparently poorly masked surprise. “I hear you have some questions…?”

Steve gestured the sorcerer towards the living room. “Tea, sir? Or coffee?”

“No thank you,” Dr Strange replied, striding through. “But I appreciate the thought.”

Steve sat on the couch, trying to think of the best way to approach this. “So, I met a guy yesterday, claimed to…how did he put it?...have some tricks up his sleeve. Supposedly activated a ward, says he can make alcohol more potent, that kind of thing. So I guess my first question is: how do I know if he’s for real?”

Dr Strange hummed thoughtfully. “It would be easier if this were in person, or you had some kind of token of him, but…no. Never mind. How precise is your memory of the conversation?”

Steve’s memory was uncomfortably good now, so he didn’t hesitate in replying, “Very.”

“Good.” Dr Strange frowned, thinking, then asked, “Tell me how he described himself.”

“He didn’t like it when I called him a magician,” Steve replied immediately, remembering the kid’s comment about rabbits and hats. “He said he had a spark, but he didn’t call himself anything.”

Dr Strange raised his eyebrows curiously. “A spark? That’s an old term.”

“It is?” Steve asked. “What does it mean?”

Dr Strange began to pace slowly. “It means his lineage of teachers comes from true magic, and at some point, one of them thought he had natural ability. A spark is like…grace, perhaps. You can teach an ungraceful person to dance, fight, or any other physical skill, and in time, they may become graceful. But some people have it naturally, and learning those skills comes easier.”

Steve frowned. “You think he’s the real deal, then?”

“In so far as I can say so without meeting him?” Strange asked. “Yes. Was that your only question?”

“No,” Steve replied slowly. “He, uh, he said some things he thought would make me trust him, or  _ should _ make me, and suggested I verify them with another magic user.”

Dr Strange gave him a curious look. “Some kind of oath, I imagine?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, he said it twice, in different ways. The second time, he, uh…” What was it again? “He swore by the air he breathes and the earth he walks on that he’d do no harm to anyone that hasn’t hurt him or his.”

Strange rocked back on his heels. “Well. That’s an old-fashioned oath – really, I’m quite curious about the lad now. And it’s a trustworthy one. I won’t say he’ll never deceive you, but anything sworn like that, you can rely on.”

“Huh.” Steve thought about that for a minute. “Well, thanks for your advice. Is there anything else you think I should know?”

Stroking his beard, Strange hummed. “Pay close attention to the wording he uses: based on what you’ve told me, I’d guess he puts great stock in his words. He’s unlikely to lie to you directly, but that doesn’t mean he can’t mislead. If you find yourself in the situation of defending yourself against him, keep him distracted and get him out of any areas he spends a great deal of time in. He may have unusual allies – unless introduced or threatened, you should ignore anything you notice.”

Steve nodded. He hadn’t got the impression the kid meant any harm, but the advice was good anyway. “Am I likely to cause offence if I bring Thor with me next time I go to the place I met him?”

“Not  _ offence _ , but it might be polite to warn both of them of the meeting,” Dr Strange warned. 

Steve’s lips twitched. “I guess so. Thanks. Is there anything I can help you out with while you’re here?”

“No, if that’s all, I shall depart,” Strange said with a slight bow. “Thank you for consulting me  _ before _ you found yourself in trouble.”

Steve laughed. “I won’t keep you, then.”

Strange disappeared in his customary swirl of a cape and Steve shook his head.

 

\-----

 

To say Stiles was surprised when Steve came back was an understatement. The guy was obviously in a better mood this time, and he waved at Stiles before finding an out-of-the-way spot at one end of the bar. “Hey,” Stiles said, coming over once he had a moment. “Want me to put the ward back up for you?”

Steve considered it and nodded. “Sure. And I know you know my name already, but…” He stuck out his hand. “Steve. It’s nice to meet you.”

Stiles grinned as he shook it. “Nice to meet you too. My friends call me Stiles.”

“Am I one of those?” Steve asked, raising his eyebrows. 

Stiles shrugged. “If you want to be.” The guy looked like he could maybe use a friend.

Steve paused, looking Stiles over. Stiles did his best not to shrink away from that evaluating gaze. “Sure,” Steve said eventually. 

Stiles nodded. “Is it just water for you again tonight, or did you want me to spice something up for you?”

“Just water,” Steve replied. “I thought I might bring Thor with me to give your boost a try, but one of my colleagues pointed out you might want a bit of warning.”

Stiles’ eyes bugged open.  _ Thor _ in his bar? Hell yeah he needed warning. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I, uh, I appreciate that.”

Steve laughed, surprising himself. “So, you know all about me - why don’t you tell me a little about yourself.”

Stiles gave Steve a thoughtful look, then nodded. “Yeah, alright. I - “ Shit, there was a queue at the till. “Hang on a sec.”


End file.
